Dying to Be With You
by musicalS377
Summary: Tonks and Remus's relationship is tested when one of them is poisoned. From Tonks's POV. I know the title is cliche, I'm trying to find a better one! Rated T for minor sexual content and swearing.
1. Chapter 1

"Dying to Be With You"

Author's Disclaimer: I own nothing here, and am not going to make any money from this ficlet. JKR can make all the money she wants from these characters.

Author's Notes: This story started as a response to the ending of HBP, in which I was delighted to see that Tonks and Remus were (finally) a couple. Thanks and appreciation goes out to the Tonks/Remus shippers in the Cookie Jar at who gave me the inspiration to continue this story. It's not completed yet but I've recently been inspired to continue it. Constructive criticism is appreciated, especially since I haven't had a Beta look at this. Enjoy.

Chapter 1

My mother was cultivating blueberries when we received the note. Mum has always been obsessed with growing things, often by non-magical means (to my father's delight), although the rose bushes in the back of the jungle and jumble that she affectionately calls a garden have always watched me hungrily, as if I were their next meal. My father doesn't know about those roses; he enjoys getting dirty and smelly in the mud, planting pitiful little sprouts and coaxing them into large vined plants that strangle each other (also know as pumpkin plants) and tall thick green stems that sprout giant tomatoes. If my father knew that Mum had tampered with that bush, he would be quite mad.

I said that my Mum has always been obsessed with growing things-- but my father outstretches her by a couple of miles, at least. And he can't do magic things at all, not having a single ounce of magical blood in him. One wonders how I became so gifted... My mother always avoids the answer to that question, so I've never gotten a straight answer from her on the subject.

Like I said, she was cultivating blueberry bushes, on her hands and knees in the dirt, humming tunelessly (she is quite frighteningly tone-deaf) when our owl brought us a small note. My heart always clinches tighter when we get small notes; in these desperate times, when a small, hastily scrawled note finds you, you duck like it's a particularly vicious Howler. In some ways, I'd prefer a Howler, because these little notes always bring bad news. Large letters are nicer; people always skirt around current events and pretend they don't exist, and the contents of letters are enjoyable and naive. "Aunt Maurice finally shaved off her beard, and she hasn't been mistaken for the late Uncle Roger since she did it!" "Thomas's boy finally got his letter from Hogwarts… it took long enough!"

Anyways, notes are dangerous and unhappy tidings, and if I had had better common sense I would have shot the poor bird that brought it. As it was, I nearly tripped over the owl (don't ask how I managed that one) and it beat me around the head with its wings until Mum came running, her trowel still full of dirt.

"Nymphadora, be careful!" She scolded me, as if I were beating myself around the head. The owl landed calmly on her shoulder and she took the note from it. She handed it to me after checking the name on the top line. Wonderful. What a way to start a bright summer morning.

I took it from her with hands that didn't shake, and silently congratulated myself at managing to keep myself steady. The owl hopped onto the glass table on the pavilion and made short work of the rest of my breakfast. I hope he enjoyed it more than I had.

Nymphadora,  
I know you hate me, but I'd like to give you a reason to trust me again.  
Moony is in great danger, and I know how much you appreciate the work he does.  
We will meet in person soon.  
S.O.S.

Great. Just peachy. That jack-ass wanted to try and put things right with me, after he killed the one person that was holding the Order together. After there was undeniable proof that he was on the other side. "Bollocks to him," I muttered under my breath, and ripped up the paper. False alarm, I told myself, and put the note from my head immediately.

"Who was that from, Nymphadora?" My mother had pressed her lips into a thin line, probably in response to my muttered curse.

"Someone I don't care about anymore, Mum," I lied smoothly; I was getting better and better at it every time an untruth escaped my lips. Remus was the only one I couldn't lie to. But I did care about Snape-- in the sense that I wanted to torture him to within an ounce of his life. I was astounded at his audacity. He was threatening Remus and I, and that would not do. I resolved that the next time I saw him I would kill him.

Mum pressed her lips further together, if that was possible, and returned to her gardening. I got up, shooed the owl away, tripped on a garden gnome, and went into the house, nursing scraped palms. Wonderful way to begin my day.

Remus showed up for supper at my mother's, which was both pleasant and tense, because my mother didn't know that Remus and I were a couple, and we both agreed that she would freak if she ever found out. He was just a lonely friend, but I had a hard time keeping myself from revealing our intimacy, since I hadn't been seen him in person since Dumbledore's death, over a month ago. We kept our remarks vague and pleasant, and we managed to make it through the roasted beef and various vegetarian side dishes without incident. My mother could cook as well as garden, and the meal was delicious.

We said our goodbyes and Apparated back to my flat. I had a room at my mother's house, but I could only take so much of her, and I had reached my limit. I wondered often why Sirius said she was his favorite, but then, compared to Bellatrix or Narcissa, there was no contest. Narcissa had married a pompous ass, which suited her because she was one herself, and Bellatrix had killed Sirius, which showed her fine temperament. Sirius's loss burned alongside the survivor's guilt that berated me even still for not knowing and recognizing his innocence.

"Hey, Tonks," Remus said with a sigh, sinking into the plush couch in my living room.

"We made it through dinner." I was amazed he let me sit down after him, knowing my clumsy nature, but we made it onto the couch without incident. He pulled my head to his chest and drew a breath from my hair, a deep rumbling coming from behind his ribcage.

"I've missed you," he said and caressed my hair with his fingers.

"I missed you more, Remus," and he shivered as I said his name, stretching the syllables on my tongue. I curled my arms around him, feeling how slender he had gotten. "Are you still with the werewolves?"

He gave a sigh; this was always a sore topic, and one that he avoided for secrecy issues when through owlpost, for time constraints when speaking through fire, and for some sort of personal embarrassment in groups, even a large group like the Order.

"Not for the most part, but I have met with a few weres that don't enjoy Fenrir's company. Enemy of my enemy... that's their attitude. I've got a couple of them on our side, but Greyback's got the rest of them. One of them attacked me when I brought up the issue." He pulled his shirt up and as I levered myself up I saw that there were angry welts along his side, starting below the last rib bone (which I could see clearly) and sliding down below his trousers. I hissed at the deep cuts and saw that a few of them were round, like a half moon of teeth.

"They must hurt."

"I'm used to pain, Tonks," he said, sliding his amber eyes along my face and down my body. They were filled with exhaustion, and he pushed his shirt back down to cover the marks.

"Will they heal?"

"After the next moon they will be gone." He shrugged and slouched in the couch. I wasn't used to the relaxed lines of his body; I had always seen him with a straight, rigid back, keeping himself in check at all times. I stared down his long body, filled with the desire to run my hands along it.

"Nymphadora," he breathed, and I looked up coyly, stretching my lashes longer without squinting. Since Remus had accepted me, I could metamorph without scrunching my face. It came even easier now than it ever had before. "You feel beautiful," he sighed, and pulled my shoulders around and up so I would face him. Rather than try and balance on my knees, which I knew would end in disaster, I swung one leg around his and rested against his hips. He let out a whimper and kissed me, and I sucked on his lower lip before pulling back.

"I feel beautiful?" I asked, keeping my hands on the back of the couch so they didn't stray to places I wasn't sure Remus was ready for. Well, one of those places was definitely ready, I could feel it through two layers of clothing, but Remus might not be ready. As far as he had told me, no one had touched him romantically, ever, so this was a new experience. It freaked me a little, that I was more experienced than him, but he was older, and wouldn't react like a twenty year old hormonal monster, but a mature adult. Which is how I try to act occasionally.

"Your aura is beautiful," he explained, and kissed the soft, delicate spot under the chin with light dry kisses. I let out a little gasp as his tongue slipped between his lips, and his kiss deepened as he reached my Adam's apple. He had explained to me that werewolves could feel the auras of people that they knew well enough. I hoped my aura was giving him the right signals, signals that said "Please Don't Stop!"

My hands found their way into his hair, his soft brown and silver hair. I decided that was an all right place to put them, and with them at the back of his head, I pulled his head up to my mouth. The cool air on my throat made it hard to moan for a moment, and I bucked a little on his lap.

He dropped his head back and let out a tiny noise that might have started as a howl when it left his lungs. His hands clamped onto my thighs, right above the knee, and he hissed my name. I had forgotten how strong werewolves could be, his sinewy fingers tight like ropes on my legs.

A loud screaming sound made both of us tense, the pleasure-ful feeling driven from our bodies at this strange noise. Before I could identify the noise, my wand was whipped out of my back pocket and Remus's slashed against my leg as it flew out of his side pocket. Remus jumped up, trying to get me to my feet, but I couldn't get them under me in time and I collapsed to the floor. While I was pulling my feet under me, Remus was struck by a silent curse and landed on top of me, driving the breath from me. That blasted alarm was still in my head, and I realized that it was my wizard proximity alarm. Right. That worked nicely. I shut it off with my mind, one of the few things I could do wandless, and looked up at the trespasser.

"I thought you were expecting me, Nymphadora," a cold voice called, and Severus Snape was seated in the armchair beside the couch. He had Apparated in soundlessly, an amazing feat in and of itself, and if my alarm hadn't gone off, he might have sat there, watching for some time before revealing himself. I pulled myself up and caught at Remus as his weight nearly tumbled off me.

"What did you do to him?" I demanded, setting his head gently on the carpet. He still had a strong heartbeat, I could feel it steady in his neck, but he was obviously unconscious.

"Why did you disregard my message?" He asked, and crossed his ankle on his knee. A question for a question, his body language told me. You answer my question and I'll answer yours. Well, he obviously had the upper hand, so I guess I had to play his game.

"Screw you, Severus," I snarled, still standing. "I wasn't expecting you because you're a sodding prick."

He smiled. "Your animosity isn't earning you points." He didn't look as haggard as I had hoped he would, although the hair was just as greasy as ever. Some hygiene habits die hard.

"Your uninvited presence isn't earning you any, either. I'm not going to be coerced to your side by threats in a letter."

"My intention is not to coerce you," he said, and tossed a glance at Remus. "I think he's done it quite well. Or maybe you've seduced him."

He was trying to get to me, to get me to react rashly. What was I saying earlier about being an adult? I wasn't going to bend to his level. I was not.

"Not quite ready to divulge your love life to me, Nymphadora?"

"I won't call you Snivellus if you don't call me Nymphadora."

He was silent for a long moment, watching me. He wanted to know how I had found that name out; he probably figured that Remus wouldn't have revealed it to me. He hadn't. Harry had, right before he left for his Muggle home.

"Fine."

"What do you want?"

He laughed when I asked him that. "I doubt you would believe me."

"Then get the hell out."

"I came here tonight to bring you back to my Master. However, I have something better planned, since your wolf is here." He smiled, and it was not a pleasant one.

"Whose side are you on, Severus?" I looked over at Remus, who looked for all the world like he was sleeping, auburn hair tossed over closed lids. He was breathing normally. The silence dragged on until I looked at Severus. His black eyes were closed, and only his hesitation made me wonder if he might still be on our side.

"I'm on my own side. I feel that the Dark Lord knows what he's doing."

"That means I might be the next victim, doesn't it?" That thought was a bit scary, but I had to put it out on the table. The Dark Lord had always despised Muggles, although rumor had it he was a Half-Blood himself. If this was my time, I was ready for it; that was one thing Dumbledore's death had instilled in all of us. We were aware of our own mortality, and how precious life really was. That was one of the reasons I spoke out at Bill Weasley's bedside that day. Life was looking pretty short these days.

"Not necessarily," Snape hazarded, and uncrossed his legs. "He wants you on his side, not dead. Your ability to change looks is very valuable to him. So I've been sent here to convince you that you're on the wrong side."

"You have my attention, Snape. Let's hear you convince me."

"I am supposed to poison Remus Lupin if you don't agree to work for us." I won the battle with myself and continued to look at Snape, but I really wanted to jump in front of him and protect Remus's unconscious body. How dare he?

But I knew it wasn't an idle threat. I was unarmed, and Severus was armed with his wand and the wordless magic he was so good at. Even if I could get my wand back, I couldn't do the wordless ones faster than he could.

However, Remus and I had had a conversation about this sort of hostage situation. We had both agreed that if the other was ransomed for our participation in the Dark Lord's plan, that the other would be forfeit. I hated the idea, but I was mature enough to handle it. I had to; neither Remus nor myself had the ability to play double spy, and we both knew our limits.

"My answer is no."

He watched me for another moment, then stood up quickly. I launched up and put myself between the slimy-haired bastard and Remus, who was still unconscious. Acting adult or not, I couldn't just stand there while Snape poisoned Remus. I had to do something.

"Out of the way, Nymphadora. You're just going to make this more difficult for both of us." He pointed his wand directly at me and moved forward slowly. I waited until the point of his wand was nearly touching my stomach, then twitched my foot forward to touch it against Remus's knee. I could Apparate short distances without my wand. Chances were high that I could Apparate both of us into the next room. The question was, could I do it without Splicing our bodies together? It was worth the risk. I shut my eyes and we Disapparated, our body particles spinning away from their current positions.

I focused on putting both of us back together, and when the whirlwind feeling was gone, I looked up. We were in my room, and Snape was cursing in the next room over. I had perhaps thirty seconds... Was it enough? I could hear his footsteps, then he called, "Nymphadora, I know you are still here. Stop fighting me and come to your senses. I won't be so lenient next time." I reached out and whipped Remus's cloak off, then exchanged it with mine. I had a difficult time stuffing his limp arms into my cloak, since it was a tight fit, but I managed it. My features started changing as I focused, but because I was changing every part of myself, it was not the instant morph I was used to. It hurt, as if the bones were protesting their change. I bit my bottom lip to keep from screaming, and I could feel the thin hairs sprouting from my upper lip and chin. I cradled Remus in my arms, as Remus had done to me the last time I had tripped over the furniture in my living room and had actually knocked myself out. This might actually work... My hands became hairy and cramped, as if the bones themselves were protesting every movement I thought about doing.

The door across the way was slammed open as the last changes ripped across my chest and pelvis. I did cry out at that one, as my female organs slid away into some invisible part of me. My voice sounded raspy and low. The door slammed open just as the changes finished, and I put my hand to my head as if I had a headache.

"What did you do to Tonks?" I demanded in Remus's voice, as Snape took the situation in. Seeing two Remus's and not knowing which was the fake must have shocked him, but he hid his surprise well.

Snape pointed his wand at me. "You can't be Remus, you shouldn't be awake yet." He narrowed his eyes. "I doubt you had enough time to change your whole body." He slashed his wand, and my body froze where it was. I couldn't even blink; my chest felt tight, and I realized I couldn't breathe. My eyeballs would not move, so I stared at Snape's face until he leaned forward, out of my vision. Black began to swim across my eyesight.

His hand grazed across my chest, searching for breasts, and then slid down to my pelvis area. I would have moaned when he grabbed me down there, because it hurt, but I couldn't move my larynx. He yanked his hand back as if stung.

"You really are Remus. This will work just as nicely." My hearing was buzzing in and out; I was going to pass out from asphyxiation in a minute, and I was sure Snape knew this.

"Pay attention, Remus. Tonks decided not to take me up on my offer, so you will take the punishment. I will curse you with an ancient magic, the likes of which only Dumbledore understood. You will not be able to speak to anyone of your plight, and you will fade into nothing." He released me and I slumped forward over Remus. My heart was beating erratically against my chest, but I struggled to breathe shallow breaths and fight the black spots fluttering across my vision. "You will tell Tonks only this: I received her answer, and you are now facing the consequences of her decision." He caught my hand and sliced the back of it open with a slender blade that I hadn't seen; the sharp pain seemed to take a long time to reach my brain, but when it did my hand began shaking. I drew a sharp breath and began coughing, the black spots returning to my eyesight. He pressed the palm of his hand against the top of mine, and squeezed against it, then brought his fingers up almost tenderly to caress the fingertips against my lips. I tasted the coppery stickiness of blood, and I guessed it was his as well as mine. Most ancient magic was blood magic, powerful and often irreversible without the person that had done it.

I felt his will press into me, and the force of this spell was too great for my weakened body. The world turned to clouded glass and shattered, leaving me in darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Dying to Be With You (Working Title…?)

Author's Disclaimer: I don't own any of this stuff, nor am I making any money or royalties off of these characters. JKR can make all the money she wants off of them, though. :)

Author's Notes: This story started as a response to the ending of HBP, in which I was delighted to see that Tonks and Remus were (finally) a couple. Thanks and appreciation goes out to the Tonks/Remus shippers in the Cookie Jar at Fiction Alley, who gave me the inspiration to continue this story. It's not completed yet but I've recently been inspired to continue it. Constructive criticism is appreciated, especially since I haven't had a Beta look at this. Enjoy.

And thank you to my reviewer. I love when I see that someone cares enough to write a response. :)

Chapter 2

I woke in stages, and I knew it couldn't have been more than a few hours, because my chest felt bruised, like someone had been sitting on it. I opened my eyes and it took a moment to recognize the semi-familiar surroundings. I was in Remus's room at Grimmauld Place, which told me that either Remus had woken to find me unconscious, or someone had noticed our absence from some important meeting. There were always meetings, some of the secret kind, others of the political kind, and none of them exciting. Either type meant arguments, so I was a little glad that we had missed it. Rather pathetic, but true.

"Tonks," Remus's soft voice whispered beside me, and I turned my head slowly in his direction. He was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, a shy smile on his lips. He had been watching me sleeping.

"Wotcher, Remus," I whispered with a smile. Speaking hadn't hurt my chest as much as I thought it would. I put one hand to my chest and had a small shock as I realized I was still in Remus's body. My hand felt alien and large against the soft white shirt and the broad chest beneath it. I closed my eyes and began to change back; it went very slowly at first, then my breasts pressed out of my chest and my body contorted at the strange sensation. My bones shrank, the skin stretched, and I let out a cry as the male part slid back into me. When my body was done changing, I changed the cut of my hair into something short, spiky, and pink. Remus laughed as the hair changed, and I looked up at him. "Why are we here?"

"I woke up before anyone came looking for us, and I called Kingsley to get you back here. I felt that your apartment wasn't safe anymore."

"Yeah," I agreed softly, but I wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying. My mind was racing back to the spell Snape had cast on me. I brought my hand up to look at the back of it, hoping to see something, but knowing that there wouldn't be any mark. To my surprise, there was a long crescent-shaped scar that looked quite old. I squeezed my hand tight and watched the muscles and tendons pull around the scar, as if it had gone deeper than I thought.

"...some food?" His voice snapped back into focus, and I looked up dazedly.

"What?"

"Do you want some food?"

I looked down at my hand again and thought about it, then nodded slowly.

"I'll go get some, and then you can tell me what happened."

Shit. What could I say? Had Snape crafted some clever lie that would spurt from my lips, or would I be fumbling for words, unable to explain what had happened? Tears began leaking from my eyes as I realized that I had no control over my situation. I couldn't even remember what Snape had poisoned me with, because I was out cold when he had administered it. Potions had never been my strongest subject in school and in Auror Training, and I was caught by the desperation of not knowing what was going to kill me. I looked around the room through the glistening haze of the tears, remembering that Remus had books on the older magic, but I couldn't see any of the titles from where I was.

After a few moments of panic, my Auror instincts kicked in. Assess the damage first: right... I sat up and wiggled my fingers and toes. Most poisons cut off circulation to the extremities in their later stages, if they weren't of the instant-death-variety. Some poisons cloud the mind, but I was pretty level-headed at the moment. The harsher, internal-bleeding poisons usually leave a sweet aftertaste, but there was no aftertaste at all. I could feel no apparent damage or lingering pain in hidden places.

That narrowed my options down sufficiently.

The poison could either be one that takes weeks to finish, or it could be one that remains dormant until a scheduled time or event (i.e. eating a certain food, taking a bath), at which point it all goes downhill.

If it had only been hours since Snape poisoned me, the poison might still be in my stomach. I rushed to the bathroom off of Remus's sitting room, tripping over my own two feet on the way. When I returned, feeling a little better but sure that I hadn't gotten rid of all of the poison, Remus had set out food on the nightstand. He watched me with concern, and moved over so I could sit on the edge of the bed closest to the food. Not surprisingly, I didn't much feel like consuming anything.

"Do you want to talk about what happened last night?"

I looked down at my hands and took a drink from the glass of water, more to stall the moment than because I was thirsty.

"Can you talk about last night?" He leaned a little closer so I was forced to look in his eyes. The concern and compassion I saw there was more frightening than soothing. I shook my head slowly, sure that I couldn't speak of it. This must be the ancient magic Snape had placed on me, restricting my vocal cords and tightening all the muscles in my throat.

Remus watched me for a moment as I fought to speak, and then leaned in with a hand on my knee.

"I can't…" I whispered, and looked away from his gentle and caring eyes. Maybe I really didn't want him to know.

"You can't tell me?" His integrity and intelligence in that moment really surprised me.

I looked up and I guess my relief must have shown on my face, because he gave a sad little smile and nodded. He reached out and took my hand, massaging the scar as if he knew it had happened last night. "When you can tell me, or if I can help in any way, let me know, Tonks," he said, and I leaned into his shoulder and he held me.

xxx

Remus left shortly after that, to tell the members of the Order that I was all right, and I lay back and thought about my options. After a few moments of that, anxiety began to squeeze my chest, so I got up and paced along the shelves of books. The gold etching on the bindings glittered in the candlelight, disappearing into darkness as my displaced shadow passed over them. So many books: could one of them hold the solution to my predicament?

I tripped over a short stack of books on the floor and collapsed with a squeal of surprise. I peered down at the offending books, then realized that they hadn't been there a moment ago. There was a gaping hole in the bottom shelf, as if the books had jumped out to purposefully trip me.

They were all books on poisons. Title after title read "Potions: Poisoning the Mind" or "Poisons and Antidotes: A Quick Glossary". I reached up and pulled one of the candles off of the nightstand. The books glowed as the light and the shadows danced across them.

I opened one tome titled "Poisons: Symptoms Lead to Solutions" and browsed through the alphabetical glossary until I found the entry for "Nothing". I was not surprised to see that there was an entry for "Nothing", because I had taken Poison and Substance training as part of my Auror studies, but I was surprised by shortness of the entry.

_If Nothing occurs after consuming a poison, three conclusions can be made. The poison was made incorrectly, is of the passive variety, or has a long reaction time. If the poison was made incorrectly, one must check for symptoms of personality disorders or of rapidly degenerating senses. Poisons made incorrectly, while rare, pose a greater problem than those that are produced correctly, in that the creator will not know the outcome of the poison. _

I wasn't too worried that the poison was made incorrectly, since Snape had been the Potions teacher at Hogwarts for quite a few years-- he knew his subject matter. This poison has to be one of the two other kinds.

_The passive poisons can be triggered by either a certain substance entering the body or by a certain event performed by the body. There are certain tests that can be performed to identify this type of poison, although these tests are not accurate when dealing with poisons made of more than ten ingredients. _

The third kind of poison is the most advanced and the hardest to reverse. Any tests to identify the type of poison will lead to a speeding up of the process. We suggest that if the poison is not identified as passive to seek the help of a professional Potions Master.

I tossed that book onto the bed in disgust. It didn't even offer the spells to discover the passive trigger. I couldn't exactly speak to anyone about my situation, so the book offered me no help whatsoever.

The next books didn't have much more to say. If this pitiful pile was all that Remus's collection could offer me, I needed to go to the Wizarding Library of Greater Britain to find more specialized books. I tucked them all back onto their shelf and checked the clock. It was barely five in the morning. I glanced out the window and was surprised to see the pink pre-dawn coloring edging the thick clouds.

I picked an apple from the food Remus had left and sat down on the wide windowsill, watching the sun peek out from below the horizon. The sky burned red for a few minutes and I thought about the Muggle saying: "Red skies in the morning, sailors take warning." That saying was one of the few things my father had taught me. Did this red dawn mean I should take warning, too? Could this be the last dawn I saw?

With that awful thought, I sat for a long time in silence, burning the image into my brain. When a sunrise could be your last, you watch it like it is your last.


End file.
